


Front Row Seats

by lwtbitch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Harry, M/M, Minor Niall Horan/Liam Payne, Minor Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson, Non-Famous Louis, and they're on tour, harry and liam and zayn and josh are in a band, it might be a little more than minor, niall and louis aren't, ongoing editing because this is shit, white eskimo is a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwtbitch/pseuds/lwtbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"if it wasn't for that concert, i never would have met you, lou."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> White Eskimo is the world’s biggest pop punk band, with Harry Styles as the heartthrob-y lead singer. Currently on tour, Harry is always searching the audience to find the perfect person for him to spend the rest of his life with. He has everything: the fame, the money, the screaming fans. But… Harry is fed up with hiding who he really is. In an interview with Vanity Fair, Harry comes out, without his manager’s consent – mainly because Harry is sick of dating girls. They don’t make his heart race, they don’t make him weak at the knees, they don’t make butterflies stomp around in his stomach like bloody elephants. No, boys do that. Every fucking night, he searches the crowd looking for someone that makes him feel any inkling of the emotions he’s dying to feel. He reads his mentions and hashtags, hoping a fit lad will send a cheeky tweet his way. When a certain boy crawls into his life – by way of a fucking meet and greet, mind you – Harry feels his heart race for the first time, probably for the first time _in his life_.
> 
> Louis Tomlinson is _hands down_ White Eskimo’s biggest fan. He incessantly giggles like a school girl over pictures of Harry Styles, always listening to their albums (even when he’s _supposed_ to be working – always has headphones in and always gets written up for it), has at least twenty posters in his room – only two or three hang on his wall, thank you very much. Don’t need to scare away friends, do we. So when he lands his hands on front row seats – don’t fucking forget about the meet and greet passes, Jesus Christ – to a concert at the O2 Arena in London, he’s completely ecstatic. He tries to look his best – mainly because he likes to look nice – not because he absolutely wants Harry to fall in love with him. Absolutely not that at all. But Louis sends Harry a tweet after the show, strictly to let his followers know he had an awesome time. He never expects Harry to reply.
> 
> • • •
> 
> this is based off a prompt from tumblr, but the post is from so long ago that i couldn't find the original gif sets. butbutbut, i was a smart young lad and saved every gif that i found that helped inspire this fic and have recently compiled it into [this lovely video](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/post/118494731977/if-it-wasnt-for-that-concert-i-never-would-have) that didn't take seven hours. not at all. feel free to watch this and to stop by the [tumblr](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com) if you have any inquires.
> 
> i love you lots, strawberries <3.

His ringtone pierces through the silence of his bedroom. A groan escapes his lips as he blindly reaches for his cell phone, hastily answering the call. "What do you want?" he groans, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Good morning, Harry," his manager, Lou Anne, greets unhappily.  
  
"What time is it?" he mumbles into his pillow.  
  
"Eight. I just went out to get my usual coffee and biscuit, when I saw the cover of the latest Vanity Fair."  
  
"And this is urgent, because?"  
  
"Have you seen this month's issue?" she inquires.  
  
"No. I haven't," he answers blandly.  
  
"Well, the front cover reads, in big bold lettering, _Lead Singer of White Eskimo is Gay_. Care to explain?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii! *waves like the child i am* here's the introduction for this fic. (:  
> i'm projecting this to have around twenty chapters, but that could change.  
> i love you, little strawberries <3


	2. Chapter 2

“This is Matt, and you’re listening to 95.8 Capital FM, London’s number one hit music station. It is 9:16 AM and that was Ke$ha’s  _We R Who We R_. Stay tuned because in five minutes, we’re giving away two front row tickets _and_ meet and greet passes to White Eskimo’s sold out show at The O2! But right now, this is Ed Sheeran’s _The A Team_.”  
  
The beautiful sound of a guitar surges through Louis’s car as he sits in the driveway of his mum’s house. He’s supposed to be driving Lottie to work, but he has fifteen minutes. So in reality, he has time to idle in his driveway until he wins those tickets. He _needs_ to win.  
  
A knock on his window kicks him out of the daydream he continuously concocts about meeting White Eskimo and “unexpectedly” falling in love with Harry motherfucking Styles. He rolls his eyes as he presses the button to unlock the car, watching as Lottie slides into the passenger seat with ease. “I need to you shut the fuck up for five minutes, okay?” he requests, maybe a little too harshly. But can you blame him?

“But why –”

“That was Ed Sheeran’s new single _The A Team_ ,” Matt’s voice sounds through the speakers of his car, efficiently shutting Lottie up. “But since it is now 9:20, we are giving away two tickets to White Eskimo’s sold out show at The O2. But they’re not just any tickets, they’re _front row_ , along with exclusive meet and greet passes. So call 020 7484 8958 and caller 17 will see White Eskimo up close and personal.”  
  
His phone has been glued to his hand for the past seven and a half minutes, the number patiently waiting to be dialled. Hitting the call button, anxiety in his stomach bubbles like a three-year-old’s bubble bath as he’s greeted with a steady _ring ring ring ring_ before Lottie decides it’s the most fantastic time to open her goddamn mouth.

“Can you just take me to work, or at least back out of the fucking driveway?” she whines, her voice dripping with annoyance and abhorrence.   
  
“You can piss off, yeah?” he glares, hearing the _click_ of the other line. His breath staggers as someone says, “Hello, this is 95.8 Capital FM! I’m Matt, what’s your name?”  
  
“I’m Louis,” he says, the _thump thump thump_ of his heart speeding up like it’s driving down the goddamn freeway. His throat starts to close up, his eyes watery as he tries to smile away his nerves. It’s not going to happen, but he can sure as hell try, right?  
  
“Hi, Louis. Are you a fan of White Eskimo?”  
  
“Have been since ‘09.” He fucking hopes that came out as clear and steady as it sounded in his head, his nerves officially taking over with every word Matt speaks.  
  
“Well, that’s a good thing then since you and a mate are going to see them this summer!”  
  
“Holy shit,” he all but whispers, the stars and planets and every galaxy in the goddamn universe suddenly aligning and gifting him with the inability to speak. It’s starting to piss him off, just a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot.  
  
Matt laughs, he fucking laughs at Louis, the poor speechless soul sitting in an idling car, the same soul that needs to drive his younger sister to work. But that thought isn’t at the forefront of his mind, is it. “Saturday, July 25th at The O2,” he continues to chuckle. “The show starts at 7:30, but because there’re also meet and greet passes, you’ll need to get to the venue early so you can watch the soundcheck and meet everyone.”  
  
“I don’t believe you,” he says, slack jaw still falling unattractively off his face, causing Lottie to snicker. Shit, he keeps forgetting that Lottie has work. It’s as if his brain is his biggest enemy today, forgetting all of the valuable information that humans need to function. Fuck, Louis _needs_ to drive Lottie to work. But he can’t seem to focus on that. He just won front row seats to White Eskimo’s summer tour. There’s no fucking way that he’s going to meet the band he’s not-so-secretly been obsessing over for five years. No way in hell.  
  
“Believe what you want,” Matt chuckles. “Come by the studio anytime this week to pick up the tickets.”  
  
“Thank you so much,” he squeaks, his voice gaining some volume back, five minutes too late. Oh well. He won White Eskimo tickets. Who needs a voice for that?  
  
“You’re so gay sometimes,” Lottie smiles as he shifts into reverse.  
  
“Fuck off,” he warns, backing out of the driveway. “I will _not_ hesitate to make you walk. It’s supposed to be hotter than the sun today. Don’t want to piss me off, do we?”  
  
“Never, Lou Lou,” she smiles too sweetly, poking his cheek as he pulls onto the street.

• • •

He pulls into the car park of the ice cream parlour where Lottie works, shoos her out of the car, calling after her “I’ll be back to pick you up!” before racing down the street to Capital FM’s studio. As he pulls into a parking spot just outside the main doors, his phone _pings_ , startling him out of that stupid daydream again. Well, it’s not all stupid. The part about him and Harry Styles falling in love might be a little farfetched, but Louis’s a hormonal (and maybe lovestruck) soon-to-be twenty-four-year-old fanboy. He’s allowed to daydream without judgement, thank you very much.

He pulls out his phone after he’s parked and turned off the ignition, sitting in the sweltering heat of his car, the one he thought would look awesome with an all-black interior, but ended up regretting two weeks into summer.  
  
**_Stan :)_**  
_Hey, Lou! What’s up? I heard you won WE tix this morning! Congrats!! x_  
  
**_To Stan :)_**  
_Thanks! Im so excited – I’m pcking them up now !!!!_

Pocketing his phone, he shoves his shaking hands deep into the pockets of his black skinny jeans after pushing the glass door open. Approaching the front desk, he smiles at the younger lady. “Hi, I won White Eskimo tickets this morning. I just came to pick them up.”

“Can I have your name?” she says, picking up a pen and paper, writing down ‘Louis Tomlinson’ as he spells his name for her. “I’ll be right back. I need to go find Matt.”

“Thank you,” he answers, awkwardly stepping back towards the door, the _ding ding_ of the bell echoing in his ears as another employee enters the building. A small smile flits across his lips in an attempt at a greeting, suddenly finding the dirt under his fingernails fascinating after she stares blankly at him.

His ears perk up at footsteps coming his way, a voice accompanying them. “Hi, Louis! How’re you doing?” a male voice says, causing Louis’s eyes to stray from his hands towards the lad walking towards him.

“Hi,” he greets a little shyly. Meeting new people has never been his strong suit. “I’m great, how are you?”  
  
“I’m fantastic,” he responds, motioning towards a back room. “You can follow me to the lounge.”

Louis follows Matt through a tapestry-covered doorway, entering what, he guesses, is the lounge. There’re two people playing foosball a little too close to the telly playing a station on Pandora; three people are eating breakfast underneath the window that overlooks the wall of the building next door, and someone who looks like an intern is organising a table with the label “Give-Aways.”  
  
“Excuse me, Max,” he smiles at the girl, thumbing through a pile of tickets, stopping at a small paperclipped pile of papers. “Here we go. Two front row tickets, meet and greet passes, and admission to the soundcheck.” He sends a pointed look at Louis. “Use them wisely.”

“Trust me, I will,” he chuckles. “I’ve been saving up for somewhat decent floor seats, but it’s proven to be extremely hard since I’m getting shitty tips at work. But I don’t think I’ll need to.” He smiles at the thought – he could use the £78.30 he has saved for merchandise or food or whatever else he pleases. “Seriously, thank you so much.”

“Anytime,” he concludes, slowly starting to show Louis to the front door. “Have a good time at the concert, yeah?”

“Won’t doubt it,” he responds, his phone _ping_ ing again.

 ** _Stan :)_**  
_You better let me come, or I’ll kill you. Just kidding. But seriously._ _You_ _better_ _fucking_ _take_ _me_ _, assbutt._  
  
**_To Stan :)_**  
_Youre the only person I’d even thnk about taking._

• • •

Five days. Five gruellingly long days until the concert. Until Louis gets to meet White Eskimo. Until he gets to meet Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, and Josh Devine. But more importantly, _he gets to meet Harry Styles_.

If for some reason you’re out of the loop and have no idea who White Eskimo is, then you’ve lived under a rock for the past few years. They’re the most popular band in the world right now. They’ve had three albums hit Number One on the iTunes Charts and stay in that spot for twelve weeks straight. Their newest album,  _Finding Sarah Jane_ , debuted at Number One, making this the first album to make the Top Three within 24 hours of its release.

Louis is currently sitting in his car, waiting for Lottie to get off work. After he sings along to two songs off _Finding Sarah Jane_ , he watches as his sister comes around the corner, actively searching for him. “Hey, Lou,” she tiredly greets, plopping down onto the passenger seat, immediately leaning her head against the window.

“Hey, Lots,” he returns. “Do you wanna go grab dinner?”  
  
“Not really... I just want to go home. It was a busy shift, and I’m tired as fuck.”

Switching the car into reverse, Louis starts to back out of the car park, nodding his head. “Yeah, I understand. Feel free to close your eyes. I’ll carry you inside if you’re not too heavy.” He sticks his tongue out playfully as Lottie rolls her eyes.  
  
“You’re an asshole,” she mumbles as he turns down the stereo. Harry’s voice softly soothes Lottie to sleep, faint snoring coming from Louis’s left as he pulled into his driveway. He chuckles to himself as he unbuckles his seatbelt, unbuckling Lottie’s before he opens his door. It would be a lot easier to wake her up, but he’s a damn good brother so he opts to carry her up to her room.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans as he jogs down the steps, his arms cramping from the dead weight of Lottie’s sleeping body.  
  
“Boo?” his mum calls out. “Where are you?”  
  
“In the living room,” he responds, jumping onto the sofa.

His mum walks into the living room, carrying two cups of tea. “How’re you, honey?” she asks, handing him a cuppa.

“I’m alright. A little pissed off that I wasn’t scheduled this week at work because I’m bored out of my mind. _But_ , I have off for the concert, so that’s why I’m not upset about my hours this week.”

“You’re taking Stan to that, right?”

He smiles lovingly at his mum. “Yeah. I’m gonna pick him up around 10:30 and stop for lunch on the way there.” His mum’s one of the more protective parents in his neighbourhood. Since he was born, Jay always had to know where Louis was going, who he was going with, and when he was going. Yeah, he found it slightly annoying – who’s kidding, he found it a _lot_ annoying – when he was younger, but he has learned to grow fond of it; watching his little sisters grow up has _definitely_ influenced it a bit.

“Okay. You’ll call me when you get to the venue, yeah?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his tea, smiling to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have any inquiries, feel free to stop by my [tumblr](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/).  
> :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is in some serious need of editing. so please bare with me while it’s under construction. :)

One day… just one more fucking day until the concert. It seems to Louis like each second is passing like pouring molasses. He spends his time listening to _Finding Sarah Jane_ , texting Stan, and figuring out what outfit to wear. The album is playing on shuffle while he continues to ponder outfits when Lottie bursts into his room while the first few chords of _Little White Lies_ start playing.

“— room was burning, I wouldn’t even notice. ‘Cause you’ve been taking up my mind with your little white lies, little white lies,” Lottie screams in his face as he lays various articles of clothing on his bed.   
   
“I’m surprised you know the words,” he chuckles, placing his hands on his hips and staring at his bed, mentally pairing outfits together.  
  
“Lou, I’ve _been_ in love with Liam. But only because you won’t fucking stop playing that album. Or any other ones.”  
  
“So you like them?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.  
  
“Liam, yes.”  
  
“Still, counts for something,” he winks. “I’d drag you along to meet him and make you wait in the car during the concert, but I promised I’d give that honour to Stan.”

“Oh, well. Didn’t care _that_ much, Lou,” she rolls her eyes before slamming Louis’s door shut, leaving him with his thoughts and piles of clothes.

• • •

Louis starts ambling down his block, heading towards Moona Coffee, the café where he frequently meets Stan for lunch. While passing a magazine vendor, he sees Harry Styles on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine: _Lead Singer of White Eskimo is Gay_ is the headline that catches his attention, after the hot picture of sex-on-legs Mr Styles. He grabs a twenty-pound note from his back pocket and immediately purchases the copy in his hands. 

He keeps the mag safely curled in his hand until he enters Moona and finds an empty table in the corner. Flipping through the excessively unnecessary pages, he finally comes across Harry’s feature. Deciding to read the main article later, he skims to the “exclusive” interview.  
  
**_Vanity Fair_** _: Hi Harry! It’s such a pleasure to have you with us today._  
  
**_Harry Styles_** _: It’s an honour to be here, thank you._  
  
**_VF:_** _How has the album release been for you? Has it been hectic?_  
  
**_HS_** _: It’s been somewhat calm. *laughs* Watch. I’ve probably jinxed it now. But the signings have been relaxed. The concerts are another story._  
  
**_VF:_** _What do you mean?_  
  
**_HS_** _: There’re a lot of girls, *laughs* and all they do is scream. The boys are a lot calmer... Although, there is the occasional screamer. It’s funny to see all the kids sitting front row that adamantly sing along._  
  
**_VF:_** _Have you found anyone special while on tour?_  
  
**_HS_** _: I haven’t run into anyone yet. I’m still looking for a guy to catch my attention._  
  
**_VF:_** _No girls?_  
  
**_HS_** _: No. *laughs* I prefer to date men, really. I’ve always been more attracted to them._  
  
**_VF:_** _When did you know you were gay?_  
  
**_HS_** _: When I was about thirteen, I think. I had my first kiss with a girl during a game of truth or dare, but it didn’t make me feel giddy or anything. It was like kissing [my sister] Gemma. It felt awkward and unnatural — like her lips were just too soft. And then I was dared to kiss the most popular boy in my class. My insides felt like they were on fire. *blushes*_

 **_VF:_ ** _That’s adorable, Harry._

 _ **HS**_ : _I knew he was fit, I just didn’t realise what it meant to have a “crush” on someone. I had found girls beautiful, but I would’ve rather spent time with the boys in my grade. Whenever I was around that guy I kissed, I was aware that my stomach felt like it was going to fall out my arse, but I didn’t know what it meant. Not until after I came home from that party and talked to my mum._

 **_VF:_ ** _What did she say?_

 **_HS_ ** _: Well, she was already in bed by the time my best friend, Abi, had dropped me off. So I curled into bed with her and asked how you knew if you fancied someone. And she told me. Which led to me crying, coming out, and cuddling the fantastic woman I call my mum._

“What’re you reading?” Stan asks, sitting across from Louis, tea mug and tuna-and-cheese melt _clinking_ against the metal table top. 

He closes the magazine, starting to stand up. Stan peeks at the cover while Louis goes to order an Earl Grey and mushroom risotto. He’s handed his tea, along with his risotto a few minutes later. “I never realised how fit he is,” Stan says once Louis sits back down.

“You never told me you were ga—”

“I’m not,” Stan laughs. “I mean physically fit. I thought he was just a pile of cupcakes, considering he looks like one in most of the videos you show me.”

“There’s an interview,” Louis mumbles, “towards the back.” He watches as Stan flips through page after page to find what Louis’s talking about. “Says he’s still single.”

“Good _God_ , Lou,” Stan sighs. “I thought you were fucking Niall.”

“I am,” he says sheepishly. “But we’re not dating.”

“But you’ve been fucking for close to two years, Lou. Why haven’t you ever fucking asked him to be your boyfriend? Are you waiting to miraculously run into Harry at a bar and have him fall in desperate love with you? Because, fuck, I love you, and I don’t want to crush your dreams, but there’s no chance of that happening.”

He sighs, frustrated, sipping his tea, “But, like, I’m actually meeting Harry tomorrow, if you haven’t forgotten. And yeah, I like Niall, and we click, and he fucking understands the mess that’s called my brain, but —”

“No ‘but’s,” Stan says sternly. “Harry’s in a motherfucking band, you twat, in case _you've_  forgotten. Please tell me, dear friend, how many successful relationships you’ve seen between famous and non-famous people.”

Stan bites into his sandwich as Louis starts rattling off names from some website he just Googled, like “Matt Damon and this bartender named Luciana” and “Patrick Dempsey — he’s from Grey’s Anatomy — and the girl who cut his hair” and “Tina Fey and some guy to took her on a date to a museum — his name is Jeff” and “Chris O’Donnell married his college sweetheart. He’s from NCIS: Los Angeles” before Stan cuts him off saying, “Okay, okay. I get it. It could happen. But when you meet him, what are you going to do? Besides shamelessly flirt because we know you do that with any bloke that gives you the time of day.”

Louis scoffs. “You know, if you don’t stop being an arsehole — I seriously don’t remember why we’re still friends — I’ll have to take Lottie tomorrow.”

“You keep me around because you love me, you twat. But, okay, I admit that was a little too harsh. You never know, he might find you attractive. I know I would if I were gay.”  
  
“Let’s not go there — that’s weird, mate.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. But can we just be realistic for a minute?” Stan asks, with Louis nodding his head. “Even if he does think you’re fit, he won’t ask you on a date right there, and he won’t ask for your phone number. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll even make it obvious how he’s feeling. His manager would probably rip him a new arsehole, especially because you’re someone he met at a meet and greet. If fate wants you two to be together, you’ll just have to run into each other again. Probably at the damn bar like in your goddamn fantasy.” Under his breath, quite enough for Louis to almost not catch it,“Quite unlikely, though.”  
  
Louis decides that it’s in his best interest to ignore Stan’s last comment. Instead, he decides to say, “So should I, like, make things official with Niall? I mean, we’re only seeing each other.” Louis finishes off his risotto, resting his head in his hands.  
  
“It wouldn’t hurt. You’re basically dating, just without the title. Put the fantasy of being Mr Harry Styles in the back of your mind. Unless you miraculously meet him again.” This time, Louis misses Stan’s snarky comment.

• • •

Louis gets home around 2:45 in the afternoon, and turns on the telly in his room to a rerun of Big Brother. He finally decides on an outfit and sets it on his dresser, crawling onto his bed. Pulling out his phone, he lets Big Brother fill the room with chatter as he opens a text to Niall.  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_Hey babes xxxx_

He exits out of the messages app and opens Twitter, scrolling through the WhiteEskimoTour2015 hashtag as he waits for Niall’s response.

 ** _Niall (:_**  
_Hey, cutie. What’s up ?_

Louis blushes as he stares at his screen.

 ** _To Niall (:_**  
_Sitting in bed , thinking f you_  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_You’re too cute babe . xxx_  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_But it’s tru , love_  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_I know. xx Ive been thinking about ya all day too ._  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_Babe, stop being perfct . It makes my stomach feel funny xxxxx_

 _Niall (:_  
_Your the beautiful one , babe xx_  
  
“Louis?”

He hears his younger sister, Daisy, enter his room and mutter his name as she slowly enters his room. “Yeah, babes?”

“I have a question.”

He chuckles and scoots over on his bed to make room for Daisy to climb up next to him. Once she’s curled into his side, he asks, “What’s up, love?”

“Why do you… only date… boys… with tattoos?” she asks slowly.

Louis will openly admit that he’s very much taken aback by the question. His family has never been shy about Louis’s sexuality, so his sisters have never thought that being gay was any different than being straight. But Daisy and Phoebe have been in school for a while. There’s bound to be homophobic arseholes somewhere — Louis is just afraid that he’s going to have to explain the complications of sexuality to his eleven-year-old sister, or even worse. The simplicity of homophobia. And those are definitely conversations he would rather let his mum handle.

“I’m more attracted to guys with tattoos, I guess. I have them, you know, since I have this for you, Pheebs, Fizzy, and Lottie,” he says, pointing to an X across his forearm, with ‘C,’ ‘F,’ ‘D,’ and ‘P’ inside the Vs of the X, “and this for Ernie and Dor,” pointing to the times they were born inked on his bicep: ‘14:56’ and ‘15:02.’ “I have more of a connection with them, maybe.”

“Why, though? I’m confused.”

“It’s something to start a conversation.”

“Okay…” she trails off.

“Why do you ask, babes?”

“I’m just trying to figure things out…” she vaguely explains before jumping off his bed and sauntering towards her own. He stares at his doorway, trying to figure out what just happened until his phone _pings_ and snaps him out of his reverie.

 ** _Niall (:_**  
_Lou ? You there?_  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_Sorry ... Daisy and I jst had the weirdest conversation_  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_Oh ? What happend_  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_She came into my room and startd stuttering out a question abot my sexual preferences . I mean , she’s eleven so she mght be starting to queston thing but Im still confused ?_

Niall’s responses start becoming slower, and Louis begins to question when he became so reliant on the pink-haired lad. Certainly he can go without texting Niall for more than five, ten, fifteen minutes at a time, so why is now suddenly different? Now is  _definitely_ not the time to attempt to figure out that answer. 

 ** _Niall (:_**  
_If she is, though, just remember tht she has you or me to talk to_  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_I know , babe xx thank you fr being perfect <3_  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_Youre making me blush , you stupid twat xxxx_  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_I wish I could see ;) Id kiss those stupid cheeks xxx_  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_Im warning you xxx._  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_I really wish I could see you right nw ._

He readjusts himself on his bed, turning onto his side, continuously staring at his phone. After no response for ten minutes, he gives up and sets his phone down on his bedside table. He watches the rest of Big Brother, trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment settling in his stomach. “Louis?” his mum calls up the steps a few minutes later.

“Yeah?” he yells into his pillow, trying not to sound as frustrated as he feels.

“Someone’s here for you.”

“Who?” he responds, rolling out of his bed when his mum responds, “Just come down, please.” He rubs at his eyes, contacts bothering him — he really should just wear his glasses all the time, or get Lasik. He doesn’t notice who’s at the door until he stumbles into them, arms securely wrapping around his waist.

“Hi babes,” Niall whispers against the shell of Louis’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. He smiles against Niall’s neck, pressing a soft kiss there while holding him tightly to his chest.

Breathing in the smell of menthol cigarettes and honey that he’s come to associate as Niall, Louis whispers back just as quietly, “I’ve missed you, love.”

“Mrs D, is it okay if I take a rain check on the tea?” Niall asks Louis’s mum.

“Of course, love,” she smiles, ushering them towards the stairs. Lottie, curious about who Louis’s visitor is, is waiting at the bottom of the steps — trying so desperately to look casual, and ultimately failing as she notices the pink hair rounding the corner.

“Niall!” she smiles, walking over to hug her brother’s fuck buddy she’s come to love.

“Niall’s here?” Phoebe and Daisy question loudly from upstairs before stampeding down to where Niall and Louis stand near the bottom of the staircase. They both smile at Niall before latching themselves onto his waist.

“Hi’ya babes!” Niall chuckles, ruffling their hair and tugging them closer.

“Hi Niall,” Fizzy says from the kitchen, poking her head out and waving with the hand that isn’t holding a cuppa.

“Pheebs, Dais, your brother and I are going to hang out, okay? Alone,” Niall smiles at Louis's sisters, tucking a strand of Daisy’s hair behind her ear.  
  
“Aw, okay,” Phoebe sulks.  
  
“We can play with my hair later, I promise.” Niall tugs at Phoebe’s ponytail before grinning down at the twins.  
  
“Okay!” they squeal before stumbling towards their room.  
  
“Use a condom,” Lottie winks, turning towards the kitchen to join Fizzy for a cuppa.  
  
“I will make sure to use correct precautions,” Niall says smugly, “along with your oh-so-comfortable mattress.”  
  
“Oh, fuck off,” Lottie rolls her eyes, disappearing.

“Language,” Jay scolds, Lottie following with, “Sorry, mum,” before Niall bites the shell of Louis’s ear and digs fingertips into his hips.

“Let’s go upstairs and cuddle and watch telly, yeah?” Louis whispers.

“I love that idea,” Niall smiles, pressing a kiss into Louis’s temple.

As Louis drags Niall towards his bedroom, he realises that Stan’s right. It’s time for him to fucking finally work up the courage to make things official with Niall, especially since they’ve been only hooking up with each other for the past year and a half. Technically, they’re already dating, but Louis isn’t a huge fan of labelling anything anymore, even though that’s the biggest excuse in the book for not growing a pair. He likes Niall, Niall likes him, he understands the mess between Louis’s ears, they click, and _he likes Niall_. There’s no more time for excuses anymore; he’ll be twenty-fucking-four in December and Niall’s the most serious semi-relationship he’s ever had.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles before he places a kiss to the hollow of Niall’s neck. “Niall?”

“Yeah, babe?” he asks slowly, turning onto his back.

Louis’s heart pounds in his chest, hiding his face against Niall’s collarbone while whispering, “Will you, uh, officially be my boyfriend?”

“Took you long enough, you stupid cunt,” Niall chuckles, bouncing Louis along with the ups and downs of his chest.

“Is that a yes, or?” Louis asks nervously, voice two octaves higher than normal.

“A million yeses.”

• • •

There are five hours to go until Louis and Stan queue up for the meet and greet. He’s bouncing his knees as he sits in his idling car outside Stan’s flat. White Eskimo’s debut album is blasting through the speakers of his vehicle as Louis’s mind wandering to the freckle to the left of his lip, the angle of his jawbone, the more prominent dimple in his left cheek, his long and curly hai – _ping_.

 **_Niall (:_ ** _  
Hiya babe . Im thinkng abt you <3_

Louis stares at his phone, silently screaming,  _Goddamn it. Fuck me up me arse. Fuck,_ as he replies to Niall.

 **_To Niall (:  
_ ** _Always thnking of you . xx_

He continues to stare at the bouncing ellipsis on his screen until he hears the passenger door open and close.

“You ready, mate?” Stan asks as Louis pockets his phone, smiling at his best friend.

“Probably as ready as I’ll ever be, considering I’m about to shit myself just thinking about locking eyes with Harry. I nearly shit myself last night when Niall started talking about how excited he is to see Diana. I don’t really want to see him tonight.”

“You saw Niall last night? And who’s Diana?”

A blush floats across Louis’s cheeks as he shifts into reverse, his lip consciously being brought between his teeth. “Well, Diana is Josh’s girlfriend. Niall met her while he studied abroad in France his second year. They were flatmates, I think. Fast friends.”

“And what about seeing and not seeing Niall?”

“I, erm, took your advice and finally grew a pair. Even though I’m scared shitless.”

“Why?” Stan questions softly as Louis turns onto the A1. “You know he wouldn’t do that.”

“Stan, both boyfriends I’ve had have cheated on me. I think that gives me room to be nervous about this.”

“Lou, Niall isn’t like Jack or Alex. I’m not a huge fan of his pink hair, but I don’t get the impression that he’s a dickwad.”

Louis sighs, popping in chewing gum. “I mean, yeah. I guess. I don’t know, I liked how there wasn’t a label on what we were. And I suppose I’m kind of regretting it, but we have so much in common, and I don’t know if I’ll ever find that with someone again.”

“Let’s not assume the worst is going to happen here, Lou. You know I love you and will support you no matter what, but you need to have a positive outlook sometimes. I understand that this is fucking nerve wracking, but I will be cheering you on from the sidelines. But you never answered the second part of my question. Why don’t you want to see Niall today?”

“For many reasons, I guess.” Stan pulls Louis’s fingers out of his mouth, scolding him for chewing his nails down to stubs, before letting him continue. “One, I never told him I was going to the concert and I had plenty of opportunities to do so. Two, I’ll be meeting Harry, and I get weird when I get fangirl-y. Three, we’ve discussed the mutual love of White Eskimo, but we haven’t discussed my slightly obsessive love for Harry.”

“Jesus,” Stan mumbles before sighing. “Okay, so what are you going to do if you see him later today?”

“I’m praying I don’t see him, only because I don’t want to fucking deal with that right now. I’m meeting Harry Styles in a few hours. I don’t really want to think about my boyfriend seeing me like an idiot in front of my favourite band.”

Stan takes a deep breath, right before slapping Louis upside the head. “I can guarantee you’re going to see him, you twat. So you better fucking think about what the fuck you’re going to do. Because I will not help you out.”

“You’re a twat,” Louis grumbles, turning up the stereo to drown out Stan’s negativity.

• • •

Louis and Stan arrive at the stadium around 2 o’clock and have been standing in the meet and greet line for close to two and a half hours. Luckily, Louis hasn’t seen Niall — or a girl close to Diana’s description — so he’d like to think he might be safe from a boyfriend spotting. Although that sounds really dickish, he still hasn’t prepared what he would do if he _did_ see Niall, even though Stan kept bugging him throughout the three-hour drive.

At the moment, he manages to keep Stan’s mind off of the topic by repeatedly nudging him in his side whenever the line would move. And right now, Stan’s side is sure to bruise with how hard Louis is poking him. But, they _are_ next in line. And all seems to be smooth sailing until he turns his head and catches a glimpse of a pink head of hair kissing the cheek of an extremely attractive brunette.

They’re sitting on a blanket alongside the buses, drinking Frappuccinos and eating blueberries and strawberries. They’re both laughing about something he said as she throws a few blueberries at his mouth, the fruit bouncing to the ground after hitting his nose. Louis’s blood pressure spikes and begins to boil, and now he realises why he should’ve prepared to see Niall.

He’s quietly playing the guitar, sweetly serenading her while she continues to sip on her drink and laugh at whatever is coming out of his mouth. Louis can’t seem to stop himself and mutters to Stan, “Fuckin’ell. I’ll be right fucking back,” and is swiftly moving across the grass until he is standing right over top of the blue and yellow chequered blanket.

“Lou?” Niall questions before beaming. “Hi, babe!” He makes his way to stand, but Louis pushes him back down to the ground before he’s even on his knees. “What’re you doing, love?”

“I’ve just come over to say hi to you and what appears to be your girlfriend. You didn’t tell me you played for both teams,” Louis snarls.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” the brunette says, “I’m —”

“Lou, really?” Niall asks incredulously, sulking. “You know how excited I was to see —”

“I really don’t want to hear it right —”

“Louis Tomlinson?” a man wearing a yellow tee-shirt interrupts, piercing brown eyes staring Louis up and down, most likely judging the fact he decided to wear his  _I Wanna Be Adored_ shirt. “Stan told me to come get you. You’re supposed to meet Liam, Zayn, and Harry now.”

Louis smiles at the man, graciously thanking him for the information. He starts to follow him, completely ignoring Niall’s voice calling out for him. He returns to Stan’s side and takes a deep breath, entering the miraculously air-conditioned booth. “Here you are,” he speaks coldly, apparently hating every second of his job.

Taking a deep breath, Louis thanks the security official and turns his attention to the three boys chatting amongst themselves.

“Go get Niall and Diana,” Liam says sternly, locking eyes with another member of security. “And have Niall come in here.”

“Yes, sir,” he nods, turning to leave the booth.

Harry is expecting another group of blonde bimbos, arses hanging out of their shorts and belly buttons pierced. But when he turns to greet the fans that entered the booth, his breath catches in his throat. “Liam,” he whispers, “they aren’t girls.”

“Congratulations, Haz. You can officially tell the difference between the sexes. A plus for you!” Liam laughs sarcastically.

Louis is mumbling to himself, much to Stan’s annoyance, about “this must be a dream” and “I can’t believe this” and “seriously, when am I going to wake up… this can’t be happening.” Stan softly slaps his chest, telling him to “grow the fuck up” before smiling and greeting the three boys standing in front of him. “Hey, I’m Stan. And my incompetent mate, here, is Louis.”

Harry turns back to Liam, internally screaming at himself for not speaking to the attractive boy in front of him, and instead saying to his best friend, “I don’t know what to say… he’s fucking fit!”

Liam rolls his eyes and Zayn chuckles, both introducing themselves. Harry feels like his stomach is about to fall out his arse when Liam hits his chest, reminding him he needs to fucking speak instead of staring like a tit. “H-Hi,” he stutters, “I’m H-Harry.”

“He’s not usually this aphasic,” Zayn smirks, following Harry’s gaze to Louis. “Oh, I found the problem.”

Stan looks at Zayn, confusion written across his face until he follows Louis’s gaze to Harry. “Oh, got it,” he smirks back, hilarity replacing the confusion.

“What happened?” Louis asks, snapping out of his staring contest with Harry, a red blush blazing across his cheeks.

“You’re meeting Liam, Zayn, and Harry,” Stan rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You decided to have a staring contest with the curly one.”

“Sorry,” Louis chuckles nervously, “I’m Louis. Tomlinson.”

“It’s okay, mate,” Zayn smiles sympathetically. “Stan already told us your name.”

“So… would you like a Twitter follow?” Liam asks, trying in vain to dissipate the awkwardness.

“Yes please!” Louis grins, awestruck. Harry immediately beams, reaching for his phone sitting on the table. He asks for both Twitter handles, and presses _follow_ and secretly turns on Louis’s notifications.  

“Yes, mum?” Niall asks, sulkily entering the booth, arms crossed over his chest.

“Just looking out for you,” Liam says shyly, looking timidly over at Niall like he’s afraid the slightest look would give away his feelings for the pink-haired lad. And this _really_ confuses Harry, considering Liam and Zayn have been together for almost three years.

“Thanks, mate,” Niall returns, looking towards Louis and Stan. “Lou, look. Back there, I just need you to know that —”

“Niall,” Louis swallows nervously, “are you cheating on me?”

Niall struggles to form words, completely caught off guard with the question. “Lou, c’mon. You know that I would never —”

“Just answer the fucking question,” Stan snaps, watching as Louis’s eyes slowly fill with tears.

“That’s Diana, Lou. You know she’s my best mate. Please don’t be upset. I don’t realise the way I act around her.”

“I can’t talk about this now, Niall,” Louis chokes out. “I’m in the middle of meeting my favourite band, and you’re kind of ruining it for me.”

“Just... go take the picture, yeah?” Niall forces out, obviously hurt.

He slowly makes his way out of the booth, most likely to return to Diana, as they all line up in front of the camera: Harry stands to Louis’s right, Zayn to Louis’s left, Liam to Harry’s right, and Stan to Liam’s right.

“What should our pose be?” Harry asks Louis, voice slightly quavering.

“Kiss my cheek?” Louis responds, slowly gaining confidence. Again, meeting new people isn’t a strong suit — especially the fit members of bands he’s loved for seven years.

“We’re doing cheeky, lads!” Harry calls out, pressing his lips to Louis’s cheek. Both boys feel the undeniable electricity that sparks when skin touches skin.

“Thanks,” Louis says to Harry after he’s handed a digital copy of the photo. Stan is standing a few feet away, actively engaged in a conversation with Liam and Zayn, looking his way every few seconds.

“No problem,” Harry responds, his cheeks painted pink. “I hope to see you during the concert.”

“You will. I’m sitting front row.” Louis feels his phone vibrate against his thigh and pulls it out to read the text message.

 **_Niall (:_ ** _  
Im really sorry, Lou. I wish I knew what to say. But I really do want this to wrk out . I realise I probly shouldnt act coupley with Diana, yknow, since I hve you. And I really hope we can talk abut this after the concrt._

“I’m glad,” Harry smiles. “I hate to see you go, but there are more people in line. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“I don’t know. I don’t live in London,” Louis replies sadly. “But I’m going back to uni in August, and it’s about two hours away from the city, so I don’t actually find myself here much. But you never know, do you?”

Harry shakes his head in reply, daringly pressing another kiss to Louis’s cheek before security ushers him back into the stadium.

Liam sneaks up behind him and decides to smack Harry’s back. “You’re a fucking idiot. He’s dating Niall, one of our _best mates_.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry replies nonchalantly. “But the heart doesn’t choose who it falls for.”

“You just bloody met the bloke, you twit,” Zayn laughs. “There’s no fucking way you could’ve fallen for him, just like that.”

“Z, you did fall for Liam that way, remember?”

• • •

♫♩ _He knows about you in every way_  
_He’s memorised every part of your face_  
_Inside and out, baby, head to toe_  
_Yeah, he knows everything there is to know_ ♫♩

Nine songs into the concert, both boys are starting to get frustrated — Harry at himself, for not being able to find the beautiful boy that walked into his life and will soon be leaving, and Louis at himself, for not being able to catch Harry’s attention. He watches as Harry turns from literal sex to literal sunshine in mere seconds, as he punches the air in time to the bass, as his eyes wander along the catwalk and the first five rows. “Goddamn it,” Louis mumbles to himself, actively wracking his brain to find a way to draw Harry’s attention.

He pokes Stan again, and Stan almost screams in his face. “You’re giving me a thousand bruises, you dick. I don’t know what to tell you.”

He searches his pockets, finding a random receipt from his last grocery stop at Tesco. It isn’t very big, but a security guard is standing _right_ in front of him. “Hey,” he asks the man in the yellow shirt, “do you happen to have a Sharpie on you?” The man nods and hands him the black marker. After writing on the back of the receipt, he hands the guard the Sharpie, along with the receipt. “Can you do me a favour and give this to Harry after the song ends?”

“Sure thing, lad,” he smiles, wiping the sweat off his bald head. Eventually, the song ends, and it takes a few moments before he grabs Harry’s attention. Zayn is already starting to read out signs, laughing at “Your body is 65% water and baby, I’m thirsty,” “Spit on me Liam,” and “Get naked, you dicks,” just to name a few. By the time Harry finally acknowledges the security guard, Liam’s already introducing the next song. Louis hears the guard say, “This is from that boy over there,” and points at him before Harry looks down at the paper and reads _Hi, it’s Louis :)_. A smile is thrown onto his face as he looks up and _finally_ catches Louis’s eye.

Harry starts to stand up, waving at Louis as he does so. The smile doesn’t seem to go away as Liam notices Harry staring off into the crowd, following the gaze to Louis. “What’s this boy doing to you?” Liam asks, concern lying underneath amusement.

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbles, guitar bringing him back to the present. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the task at hand: now that he’s seen Louis, don’t fuck up.

♫♩ _I’m missing you so much, I’ll say you died tonight_  
_Just so I can get to you before the sun will rise_  
_I know these times are hard, and I feel this too_  
_None of that ever seems to matter when I’m holding you_ ♫♩

Closer to the end of the song, where Liam and Zayn take over on lyrics, he builds up enough courage to return his gaze towards Louis. “ _You gave me butterflies at the mailbox_ ,” Zayn sings as Harry backs, “ _You are so cute_.” He sends Louis another wave, along with a blown kiss and watches as Louis’s cheeks flush with either embarrassment or giddiness. He thinks he’ll never know.

• • •

 ** _Niall (:_**  
_I saw th way you lookd at him._

Louis sits on his bed, rereading the last text Niall just sent. Not even three minutes after they resolved the Diana drama comes even more. Except Harry is the subject of the disagreement this time. 

 **_To Niall (:  
_ ** _Niall, Ill never see him again. Hes always on tour and I dont even travel to London . I’m frm boring, old Donny and Im wth you. Not him . Yeh, I like Harry. Bt its just like yur crush on Luke from that Minutes til Spring band .._

 ** _Niall (:_**  
_5 Sconds of Summer, Lou. But Im just scared you’ll see him again , hit it off, and leave me for him. Whethr you go to Londn or not. And may i remnd yu that Solent is two hours away frm London._  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_Yah, but we nvr go to London, remembr? So itll never happen. Theres a 0.001% chance I’ll see him again ._  
  
**_Niall (:_**  
_Im still scared , Lou. I relly like you._  
  
**_To Niall (:_**  
_I really lke you to, babe. Im not going anywhere ._

Before he heads off to bed, Louis opens Twitter and scrolls through the tour hashtag, saving pictures of the band — but mainly Harry — to his phone before adding his own to the mix.

Harry is slowly dozing off in the back of the bus he shares with Liam, his phone shoved into his left pocket. The _ping_ of a Twitter vibration startles him enough to fall off the sofa, landing on his hipbone and crying out. “Fuck,” he groans as Liam looks over from the refrigerator, his lips curved and chuckles escaping them.

“Nice, mate,” he says with a mouth full of crisps, offering a hand to help Harry up. “What woke you?”

“Twitter,” Harry replies, pulling out his phone to look at the notification.

 ** _@Louis_Tomlinson_**  
_Saw @Harry_Styles in concert today! SICK !!! #WhiteEskimoTour2015_

“Jesus Christ on the cross,” he mumbles, staring at his phone. Liam grabs it straight out of his hand and then proceeds to slap his chest, reprimanding, “You turned on a random bloke’s notifications?” to which Harry shrugs, mumbling, “He’s fit. I already told you that.”

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid, Haz. Or I will shave your head in your sleep.”

Harry laughs nervously in response, slowly unlocking his phone and replying to Louis’s tweet. He will openly admit that he will do anything “stupid” as long as it wins the boy’s affection.

 ** _@Harry_Styles_**  
_@Louis_Tomlinson I saw you! Front row, right? You were quite... distracting ;)_

Liam’s phone buzzes with the notification and tackles Harry to the ground, right after he grabs scissors off the makeshift kitchen counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again :-)  
> i apologize for how long it has taken me to edit this chapter. shit hit the fan and i didn't have the time i wanted to edit. but, nevertheless, here you fellows go. i hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> i would also like to take this time to show you a few pictures:  
> • [harry's Vanity Fair cover](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/post/126296598164)  
> • [niall](https://33.media.tumblr.com/037de437d026c2421aad0e79441316d3/tumblr_inline_mf768hCzzE1rn5woy.jpg)  
> • [louis's tattoo for lottie, fizzy, daisy, and phoebe](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/e8/07/99/e807997082f122dc033ded376dbd2c15.jpg) (except imagine different letters)  
> • [louis's outfit for the concert](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/post/120718675554)  
> • [the inspiration behind diana](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/post/126297248849): this beautiful girl is olivia. i stumbled upon her [blog](http://www.whatoliviadid.com/) a while back and stumbled upon it once more while searching for Diana's inspiration. i definitely recommend checking it out.
> 
> i will see you again soon.  
> come visit me on my [tumblrrr](http://lwtbitch.tumblr.com/) :-D


	4. Chapter 4

**_@Louis_Tomlinson_ ** _  
_ _It’s @NiallOfficial ’s bday on Sunday .. still hasn’t told me what to get him !! #meanboyfriend ._

Harry groans as his phone _pings_ , Louis’s tweet notification popping up on his phone. He’s fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. (He wishes… heh.) A small smile forms on his face, knowing that Louis is alive and well, even thinking about how it would feel to be fucked by him, but it immediately falls when he realises that Louis tweeted about his b*yfriend.

Harry doesn’t want to fucking think the word. He’s completely enamoured with a bloke he met _once_ , and the fact that Zayn is staring at him curiously doesn’t help his tummy’s flip-flops.

“What the fuck do you want, mate?” he asks too harshly, about to cry.

Zayn notices the small tear that’s inching its way down Harry’s face and immediately shoots himself across the sofa to see what’s hurting his best friend. Picking up the phone, he slaps Harry upside the head, effectively angering Harry even more. “Seriously, the fuck?” he growls.

“Haz, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you like this. How the fuck has a dude you met two months ago turned you into a teary tit, especially just with his tweets about one of _our best friends_?”

“I can’t help it, Z. Like, as shitty as this sounds, I don’t want him dating Niall. Yeah, N deserves to be happy and all, but like, I _like_ Lou, and I don’t even know why. I’ve been searching for some type of  _thing_ , feeling I guess, and I didn’t think I was ever going to find one. I thought that maybe I was fucked up or even aro. And then, this dick waltzes into my life in the most inconvenient way possible – a fucking meet and greet, for fuck’s sake – and I feel my heart race like it does every time I step on stage. Please tell me how I’m supposed to get over this because I can’t see myself not feeling this way for a very,  _very_ long time.”

• • •

“Your birthday is on Sunday, and you still haven’t told me what you want, so will you give me a hint?” Louis asks Niall as they drive aimlessly around Southampton.

“No,” Niall smirks, squeezing Louis’s hand.

“ _Please_ ,” Louis begs, slowing to a stop at a traffic light.

“Okay, okay. Honestly, just a small party and sex with you,” Niall replies, winking seductively.

Coming to a complete stop, Louis can’t help but tighten his grip on Niall’s hand, kissing the back of his knuckles gently. “You’re funny,” he blushes, slight annoyance bubbling in his stomach. It’s not his fault that he gets annoyed whenever Niall talks about sex. That’s all they ever do anymore, and frankly, Louis is getting tired of fucking. Satyriasis be damned, he needs intellectual stimulation as well. He’s not a bloody blowup sex doll.

“I’m serious, though.”

“I am too,” he replies, willing the light to change. Instead of the light changing, he tries to change the direction of the conversation. Change is change, after all. “Do you have any particular place you want it?”

“My house. With you, our families, Stan and Diana. I don’t want anything too fancy.” Niall kisses his cheek a second before the light turns green.

“That sounds perfect,” Louis smiles, turning left into his flat’s garage. He unbuckles his seatbelt and rushes out the driver’s side door to open the passenger’s door for Niall. Niall blushes a tiny “Thank you, Lou,” and starts towards the front door. After twisting open the doorknob, he follows Louis upstairs towards his bedroom, smiling to himself as he curls around Louis on the bed.

“I think I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the base of Louis’s neck.

“I think I love you too,” Louis responds, wrapping Niall’s arms closer around his torso.  

A _ping_ of a phone ruins the moment, the sound coming from Niall’s pocket. Groaning, he pulls out the device from his jeans, staring in excitement at the home screen.

 **_Josh Devine_ **  
_Fancy coming to an album release party? It’s this Saturday at the Funky Buddha, Liam’s favourite. 9 o’clock._

“Wanna come?” Niall asks eagerly against Louis’s cheek.

“Anything for you.”

• • •

A few days later, after Louis’s last class on Fridays, Technical Development, the two boys packed suitcases filled with condoms – uh, thanks, Niall? – and pyjamas, because, really, all of their good clothing is still in their dressers at home. Which is where they’re going. They’ll waste gas this weekend travelling between Southampton, Donny, and London, but commuters do it every day, so Louis doesn’t feel _too_ bad about destroying the environment.

But it’s Niall’s birthday on Sunday, and Louis still doesn’t know what to get him. Yeah, he’s going to throw the most fantastic party Niall’s ever had, but they’ve been dating for a few months, and Louis wants to buy him something. Not Rolex expensive, but enough to have parents coo at the romantic gesture.

He tries the topic again in the car, approximately 30 minutes left to their drive. Niall just shoos away his words, like they had a physical presence, and begs to stop somewhere in Sheffield for dinner. “What the hell, N? It’s 3:30 and you want dinner?” Louis all but squawks at him.

“’m hungry,” Niall shrugs, attempting to rest his head on Louis’s shoulder, even with the tall console between them. “Plus I want to look at your face, not your profile. Miss you…”

“You sappy fucker,” Louis smiles, his chest swelling with something he can’t explain other than the L-word he spoke a few days ago. He’s still a little afraid of using that word, especially since being the piece of shit that he is, he can feel something creeping into his world that he’s not too fond of, even if he doesn’t know what it is yet.

Niall’s phone _ping_ s, quickly responding, before asking yet again to stop for dinner. Christ, Louis’s in love.

• • •

As Saturday rolls around, Louis spends all day with Niall, strolling around Donny, searching relentlessly for shitty vinyl. They spend the first half of the day just fucking around, eventually finding some ABBA, Bowie, Garbage, and Rembrandts, purposely skipping out on Queen, AC/DC, and Aerosmith — Niall’s got too many records for his own good. It was a huge struggle for Louis to limit it to four, especially because all he wants to do is spoil the shit out of his love.

 **_@Louis_Tomlinson_ ** **_  
_ ** _Early bday present … bought my boy some Bowie and ABBA . now for the real present #stillhaventfoundone #oops_

As Niall places the ABBA record on, _Dancing Queen_ softly filling the silences between them, Louis grabs his phone from his back pocket, quickly opening Etsy in an attempt to find the _perfect_ gift for his _perfect_ boy. Niall loves his tea, loves the way Louis makes his tea, but tea isn’t personal enough for Niall’s fucking birthday. He needs something intimate. Something romantic.

Somehow, he manages to stumble upon something called Tub Tea, which is exactly what it sounds like: tea bags for a bath. There’s a lavender milk tea that draws Louis’s attention, makes him think of Niall’s upcoming exams. How stressed Niall is right at this moment. His boy deserves some relaxation. He quickly spends £30 — both on the soak itself and on the shipping — for a grand total of £60 before Niall is pulling him on his feet to slow dance to _Take A Chance On Me_.

“We can go dancing; we can go walking, as long as we’re together. Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better,” Niall hums off-key, softly pressing his lips to the shell of Louis’s ear. He holds Lou close, apparently afraid to let go, even after the song’s ended. “Take a chance on me. Gonna do my very best, baby, can’t you see? Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me,” Niall repeats, kissing Louis’s forehead before falling back onto his bed, boyfriend still in his arms.

“I’ve already taken a chance, you tosser,” Louis states, quickly nipping at the exposed skin on Niall’s neck.

• • •

The two stayed tangled up in each other until roughly 4 o’clock before Louis started insisting he needed to go home. “Need to shower for this party, don’t I?” he had asked cheekily, waggling his bum in the air. Niall merely rolled his eyes, softly shoving Louis towards the front door. He didn’t let Lou leave without several kisses, as well as two new love bites along his neck and collarbone. “Wanna see you wear my favourite shirt on you,” Niall mumbled before closing Louis’s car door.

It just so happens that Niall’s favourite shirt shows the hickeys left up and down Louis’s neck, along with a few on his collarbone. After Louis gets out of the shower, he counts five exposed bruises before he starts blow-drying his hair. He manages to wrap the towel around his waist before there’s a distinctive knock on the door.

“What’s up?” he shouts over the noise, allowing whoever it is to enter his bathroom.

Lottie shoves her way through the small opening in the doorway, towel wrapped around her own hair. “Can I use your hairdryer when you’re done, Lou? Mine’s short-circuited and I have a date with Jackson in 30 mins.”

“Absolutely, babes,” he says, smiling lovingly at his baby sister. “I should be done in a mo, just have to brush out me hair.”

“What’re you getting ready for?” she asks curiously, shifting her weight against the sink.

“There’s a party in London I’m going to tonight.”

“I thought you stopped partying when you and Niall got serious,” she says, worry obvious in her tone.

“Lots, please don’t worry. I swear I did. Josh invited Niall and me to some album release party. There’s no way he was going to say ‘no,’ especially not to his best friend.”

“So you won’t be coming home with a random bloke on your arm or pissed? You don’t want to know how many times I’ve heard you in the bathroom in the morning, Lou. It makes me ill. And you can’t forget that I’ve cleaned it up multiple times after you missed the toilet.”

The look on Lottie’s face makes Louis want to curl into a ball and hide away from his family until he dies. He knows his partying days really fucked up his family, which makes him all the more honest when he says, “M’sorry, babes. I promise a million times over my dead body that will never happen again, especially not tonight.”

“Just... be careful, yeah? Only two vodka tonics this time, please.”

• • •

“Louis, right?” a familiar voice sounds as Louis nurses a pint of Kipling at the bar. Niall’s gone off to god only knows where leaving Louis moping a bit on his leather-covered stool. His quiff is starting to wilt thanks to the ever growing heat in the club, but he really can’t find himself giving a shit as music pounds through his veins.

He turns around to attempt to locate the sugary sweet voice, his mind running on overtime to try to place the accent. It’s quite ridiculous, though, because he _knows_ that voice, has memorised the curve of those lips as they form every word listed in the dictionary. He just… how can _he_ remember Louis?

Jawlines and tattoos and SnapBacks quickly thrown across lazily curly hair. This is what Louis is met with when he finally, fucking _finally_ , turns his head towards the owner of the syrupy voice. He hopes it isn’t obvious that his heartbeat is suddenly very much in his throat. “Harry,” he chokes on the word, quick to cough the rest of the noise out and to take a sip of the beer in his hand.

Niall is quick to reappear, Liam and Zayn both in tow. A smile takes over his face, very much flushed with alcohol. “Haz!” he exclaims, absolutely elated to see his friends. “How are you doing?” he questions, draping an arm around Louis’s waist possessively.

“Extremely ready for the UK leg to finish up, so I’m able to join me mum, step-dad and sis on their holiday in Guana,” Harry shines, his entire face lighting up at the mention of his mum and sister. He can feel his face flush — and not from the alcohol — as he looks at Louis. “How about you?”

“I’m brilliant,” Niall says, unintentionally hijacking the conversation, smiling sweetly at Louis which makes Harry’s heart ache in a way he wished didn’t hurt as bad as breaking one’s femur. “Struggling with the MEng coursework, but I’ve got Lou here to keep me mind off things.” Louis’s face turns a quiet shade of pink, and Harry hopes, _prays_ , that it’s from the alcohol and not the way Niall is looking at him like he’s completely fucking enamoured.

“It’s been a hell of a start to the term, but we’re managing,” Louis smiles, forcing himself to keep staring at Niall and not at the black ink winking in his direction from under the two sizes too big white t-shirt hanging off Harry’s shoulders. _Fuck_ , he thinks. He knows he literally can _not_ look in Harry’s direction, knowing that once he does, the obvious fond for Niall that’s currently written on his face would be rewritten a million times over for the green enigma standing to his left.

Louis feels Niall’s lips brush his ear before he hears him shout over the music, “I’m gonna go find Josh and Diana. That okay? Want to tell them I’m here. Won’t be gone too long.”

“Go ahead, babes,” he replies, softly pressing a fleeting kiss to the left of Niall’s smiling mouth. “Go have fun. Don’t need to stay by me side all night like a housewife.”

Harry watches Niall trapeze off, awkwardly standing in the same place, feeling the beat of Panic!’s new album in the marrow of his bones, the bass too distorted to understand any lyrics of the album. Harry wouldn’t have it any other way, especially with Louis looking at him like _that_.

“You’re allowed to sit, pop star,” Louis smirks, his heart thumping too fast in the too small chest cavity that is his ribcage. He watches as Harry Bambi-steps up to the stool that Niall abandoned merely seventeen seconds prior.

Shooting Louis a smile and a “’m not a pop star,” Harry’s own heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, so he pulls out his phone as a distraction from the ever growing uncomfortableness that has become his life within the past three months. He feels a heavy weight on his head like someone’s staring deep into the recesses of his brain. He unenthusiastically turns his head towards Louis, who has a small frown that Harry so desperately wants to kiss away. “Don’t ignore me now,” Louis says solemnly, toying with the string of hemp around his right wrist as an obvious distraction, the silent “please” visible in his body language.

“I’m sorry, sorry, I just, sorry,” Harry rushes out, completely caught off guard. “I’m not quite sure what to say, honest.” And, wow, what is his life? His face is a million times redder than the Bloody Mary he’s about to drown himself in, and — what? When did he fucking order a Bloody Mary? Even drunk Styles knows he’s allergic to damn tomatoes. God _damn_ it, his chest is starting to itch, and he wants to get fucking trampled on the dance floor with Fall Out Boy pounding through the plastic of the floorboards. “Fuck, I mean, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the meet and greet, and, Jesus, I kept thinking of things to say if I ever ran into you again, fuck, but everything I came up with flew out the minging window when I saw you.”

Louis chokes on the shot he just downed, managing to splutter only a few drops of tequila onto the sticky bar top. “You haven’t been able to stop thinking about me?”

“I’ve turned on your bloody twitter notifications,” Harry admits, scratching adamantly at his throat now, the allergy suddenly becoming too much to handle, breath barely able to be caught.

“Christ on the bloody cross, I mean, fuck, I’m flattered. But Niall and I have been dating for almost three months. And, oh, fucky ducky, I really like him.” Little does either know that hearts are falling through arses from disappointment. Louis feels like his ribs are being pushed in on themselves, struggling to bring oxygen into the tar-filled lungs of his, and _fuck_ , he needs at least thirty cigarettes. Harry’s not too far off, either.

“At least let me get your number. It would be an honour to be friends with a fit lad like yourself.” _Friends is better than nothing, Styles_ , he tries to remind himself, the urge to punch himself in the throat becoming almost too overwhelming to pass up. Where’re the antihistamines when you need ’em?

“Absolutely,” Louis grins, scribbling out the digits and the words _Text me!_ , underlining them twice. “Would I, like, be able to get a photo?” He’s quick to add, “For caller ID,” when Harry’s face blanches, obvious even in the dim lighting of the club.

Harry’s pretty sure that his one eye refuses to blink when he tries to clear the blur from them, most likely sending an accidental wink Louis’s way — oops. Definitely meant to do that, just not when Louis’s sleeping with Niall, or, more importantly, when he’s having a twatty allergic reaction. Too embarrassed to speak, he simply nods his head and pulls out his phone.

 **_Unknown_ **  
_Here’s the picture. H xx_

Both quickly save the numbers into their phone, Louis managing to do so just before he receives a text from Lottie.

 **_Cockup Charlotte <3_ ** _  
_ _Lou, pls come home rn .. the twins are not well and mum cnt figure out how to put em down …… ur the only one wholl get em to sleep !_

“Fuckin’ell,” he groans, turning to Harry and apologising, “I gotta go, mate. Fuck, my baby sis and brother are ill and won’t get to bed.”

“No worries,” Harry dismisses, grateful for his own way out of the party, Louis being the only reason he was staying during the awful reaction that is currently blooming even greater within this throat and across his chest. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Defo!” Louis smiles, stumbling across the club to find Niall, who he hopes is willing to leave _right fucking now_.

He manages to find Niall in a random booth on the opposite end of the club, his arm around Liam’s shoulders, the latter leaning too into Niall’s chest. Louis chalks it up to too many shots, considering he watched Liam and Zayn pound five Jägerbombs in a two-minute time frame. He all but punches Niall’s shoulder to get his attention, tugging on pink tufts of hair when shoving Lottie’s text in his face.

Niall gives Liam and Josh kisses on the cheek before he clambers out of the booth, Louis dragging him by the hand towards the carpark.

 **_To Cockup Charlotte <3_ ** _  
_ _On the way , babes . train shuld take abt 2 hrs . love u ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK i'm sorry this has taken so goddamn long to post. i am kind of the worst. life has been fucking hell for the past year. hopefully i'll be able to start doing semi-regular updates. but i can't guarantee anything...... oops. and again, i am the **worst** !


End file.
